


enchanted

by kornevable



Series: unwavering will - roy week 2021 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Introspection, Ninian!Roy, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kornevable/pseuds/kornevable
Summary: “You… want to learn… magic?”Roy rubs the back of his neck, falling back into an old habit he’s trying to abandon.Magic, dragons, and future—Roy still has much to ponder on. / Day 3 of Roy Week: magic & dragon.
Relationships: Roy & Sophia (Fire Emblem)
Series: unwavering will - roy week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103630
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> Everything presented here is my own headcanons. I really like the idea of Roy still trying to learn magic despite his lack of affinity with it!

“You… want to learn… magic?”

Roy rubs the back of his neck, falling back into an old habit he’s trying to abandon.

“Yes. I’ve never been able to rise to Cecilia’s expectations when she was my professor, but given the recent developments and the blood in my veins…”

He makes a vague gesture with his hand, trailing off and not knowing how to end this sentence without derailing into all the possibilities that are now his to discover.

Sophia stares at him like she is waiting for him to backtrack or to announce something incredibly foolish. Her gaze has always been a bit vacant, though, so maybe his nervousness is making him see signs that aren’t there.

“It is true… that dragon magic… is drawn upon differently…”

Sophia’s magic doesn’t look any different from Raigh’s, but her sheer power and her magical stamina don’t leave room for doubt about her blood. Even the most skilled and experienced mages can’t withstand such a prolonged use of magic without feeling severe aftereffects—she has been invaluable during the war for her constant support on top of her keen sense of imminent danger.

“We can use tomes as well… but our source of magic… is mainly from within…”

With few people around them in the Arcadia street, Sophia performs a small demonstration. She opens her palm and extends her hand toward Roy, a little ball of concentrated darkness slowly springing to life. It glows brightly, sputtering purple wisps, but it doesn’t look as threatening as the spells she unleashes on the battlefield. There is control over the intensity of the glow and the size of the orb; Sophia is perfectly calm, her gaze not even trained on her hand in favor of examining Roy’s face. Roy doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s making—but it must be something akin to wonder because Sophia seems to approve.

“It is not… my full power, of course… Everyone has their own limits… You most likely don’t have much power but… it will be useful combined with tomes…”

With a flick of her wrist she dispels the orb. Roy has no idea how it works, barely remembers what Cecilia taught him in the past, but deep at his core, there is thrumming energy that is only asking to be used, warm and inviting. It’s as if he’s reacting to the magic he’s seeing.

“Father told me Mother was an ice dragon,” he says. “She used to have tremendous powers before she chose to live as a human.”

Sophia nods, and her face softens infinitesimally.

“Some of us… outside of Arcadia… couldn’t survive after the Scouring…”

How terrifying, Roy thinks. How terrifying to roam this world that used to be theirs, witnessing all the change and destruction happening, and withering away as their forces leave them little by little. Arcadia is the only safe haven for dragons.

“I promise I will endeavor to restore humans’ trust in dragons,” Roy swears, bringing a hand against his heart. “I know it won’t be easy and people won’t change their minds so readily, but I have to try.”

King Zephiel was wrong to believe humankind couldn’t live alongside dragons; humans are fragile, quick to jump to conclusions, but they need a push in the right direction. The world has so much to offer—it would be a waste to continue living as they are without at least trying to understand what remains unseen to their eyes, beautiful in its mystery.

Sophia stays quiet, though she gives another nod to Roy’s statement. She doesn’t look touched or convinced, but this is to be expected. She has been living far longer than Roy, and her perception of humankind isn’t the same. However, the corner of her lips tugs ever so slightly upwards.

“I will… pray for your success, Roy…”

She gestures towards the back of the village.

“Shall we… start right away?”

Roy smiles brightly. “Yes, please. Lead the way.”

It’s strange and exhausting, at first. Sophia talks him through the process and tries to put into words sensations and actions that have been part of her since birth. Reaching into the well of magic that Roy never managed to access feels like an insurmountable ordeal, trudging through the trials of his own mind and body until he succeeds in touching the single thread tying him to his powers.

It’s unlike letting himself be consumed by his dragon blood. These transformations aren’t conscious—he can’t shift into a dragon or will into existence fangs or claws. It’s not natural for him to be able to fight with a body modified by draconic genes; Sophia is half-dragon but she can’t transform either. Spells aiming at awakening hidden talents and dormant blood are too unstable and dangerous to make any use of them, and they are forbidden for a reason.

Reaching for magic is like forcing his mind to stop thinking and to allow himself a short moment of peace during which he will be pulled towards the source. He grasps at it, always a second too soon or unable to feel it altogether, but he doesn’t give up. It sends shivers down his spine and fogs his mind but he has to do it; this is the only dragon side of himself he can fully learn how to control. It’s a connection he can’t let go of.

He fails but keeps going, loses the touch again and starts over. It leaves him strained but never discouraged. This is like his usual training—practice and go over the steps as many times as required to master the move. With a sword in hand, his body gets accustomed to the form of the new technique; within his own mind, he has to focus on himself and ignore unnecessary thoughts.

It takes a while before the first snowflake quivers on his fingertip. It takes longer for bursts of magic to drape his hands in a thin layer of ice. But they are small victories, proof of his heritage and his iron will, and the grin that stretches his lips is full of relieved joy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> / come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kornetable)!


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